


'til death rips us apart

by jessequicksters



Series: dim sum drabbles [18]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), DCU, DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League Dark (2017), Justice League Dark (Comics)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Death means nothing when destiny is involved amirite lads, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24395587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessequicksters/pseuds/jessequicksters
Summary: (for the prompt: meet joe black, coffee shop)John and Zatanna are drinking coffee and cocktails at their favourite magical establishment. John then drops the news, a life-changing declaration under the guise of the question, “What if I told you I was going away tomorrow?”
Relationships: John Constantine/Zatanna Zatara
Series: dim sum drabbles [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1732507
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23
Collections: dim sum drabbles





	'til death rips us apart

**Author's Note:**

> my johnzee feelings are really coming out in quarantine huh

“What if I told you I was going away tomorrow?” John asks, tipping over some bourbon into the coffee-based cocktail Zatanna was carefully crafting.

Midnight in Java’s was relatively quiet tonight. As the prime coffee shop for all sorts of magical travellers, fixed at a point in between ten parallel universes, it’s known for its eclectic mix of beans, roasts, and most of all, the notorious guests who end up passing through.

Among the criminals, murderers, runaway demons and stowaway goblins, are John and Zatanna, who’ve come to enjoy the quaint little place as a date-spot away from their world—or, rather, worlds.

Zatanna’s gotten used to John’s unpredictable exploits, but tonight feels different. 

“And by going away, are you talking about a vacation or the banishment type?” Zatanna pushes the cocktail towards him, sprinkling cinnamon on top, circling the rim of the martini glass in blue fire with the delicate trace of a finger.

John’s eyes light up then. He lets out a nervous laugh. “You always know how to scare the devil out of a man, love.”

Just as he lifts up the glass to his lips, Zatanna places a hand on his other one, clasped into a tight fist on the table.

“John. Talk to me,” she says, eyes trying to reach for something that’s far from the surface. “Please.”

He licks the flames clean, the sparks of her magic enveloping his tongue, warm and alive, reminding him of a lost feeling. Of pain and mortality, of passion and thrills. Of yesterday.

John Constantine died yesterday. It was almost comical, the type of dumb accident they would play like a comedy reel in a movie. He was angry at first, angry at the fact that it was all so _beneath him_ —and then the second thought struck. He was still capable of anger; there were no eternal flames.

Death had other plans for him.

“Primarily to borrow my body as a tourist,” John laughs bitterly, “can you believe the sodding nerve? Could’ve chosen any old bastard off the street, but it had to be me. Tried to call in a few favours from a couple of demons, but they all said that claiming deals with Death was too big of a favour, even for them. So, yeah, I get one last day to prance around the universe as me before she claims me tomorrow.”

Zatanna looks like she’s about to lose it.

“No, no, no love, please don’t start crying,” John says, kissing her tears, running down her cheeks like streams in the springtime.

“I can’t believe—I can’t believe you’re _dead,_ John!” Oh, right. John had almost forgotten her capacity for anger; it comes to her like cosmic storms, often spinning directly at him. 

She drags him by the hand out of the establishment until they’re standing right on the cosmic doorstep of Java’s, where the ten staircases lead to the ten parallel universes, though Zatanna has other plans for tonight. Other places she needs to be.

“Portal to Mallus’ realm, now,” she says.

“You’re not seriously thinkin’ of just—” John starts, noting the aggravation growing in someone’s eyes. “Zee, it’s impossible.”

“The only thing Death would want more than a man who’s escaped Hell is a Time Demon that's gone rogue for centuries. Mallus’ dues should surely be collected before yours,” she says as calmly as possible. He nods then, wanting to at least do this one thing—for them.

John’s hands blaze with golden flames, chanting the Latin incantation in sharp, clear, syllables. Zatanna doesn’t have to say it, but he sees the _I love you_ in her eyes before the two of them fade and fizzle into stardust, their essences transported into the depths of a much darker realm.

It’s always been _‘till death rips us apart_ with the two of them, and maybe until after then.

**Author's Note:**

> [(Follow my Zatanna playlist!)](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5cNYWo8PvAx4H0oMi62Li4?si=KLqyQNXMSCmJdkIKpuv15A)
> 
> written as part of a quarantine fic challenge with [illea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/illea)


End file.
